


you're never gonna fit in much, kid

by gayprophets



Series: hellion teen hollis, the unholy terror [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Non-Binary Character, Canon Trans Character, Humor, Pre-Canon, Trans Duck Newton, Trans Issues, an excess of italics, hollis and keith are childhood best friends, i write the tags as i go and can i just say? A LOT OF EXTREMELY TEENAGE PROBLEMS, losing your shit in the woods: the rural teen life, mild angst (hollis is 15. 15 year olds have an excess of angst.), rated for language, some lowkey pyromania, teenage repression, the rocky beginnings of trans solidarity, trans themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-22 05:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20869301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayprophets/pseuds/gayprophets
Summary: The journal smokes for a second, refusing to catch, then ignites, pages curling and cracking. Hollis holds onto the corner until the heat forces them to release it, falling on a patch of ground they cleared of dry pine needles, because they don’t want to start a forest fire. They watch it burn up the rest of the way before pouring their water bottle on it to put it out.Somebody lurches into view right next to them, and Hollis feels their heart fall out of their ass for the second time that day.-Hollis engages in therapeutic pyromania in the woods and gets rudely interrupted by some nosy forest ranger. They're fucking COPING, okay? Fuck off.another version of the fic i posted last night (teenagers scare the living shit out of me) this one in hollis' POV because theyre hysterical and relatable. you can read just one or read both, it doesn't matter and neither does their order. theres just more and different details in each.





	you're never gonna fit in much, kid

**Author's Note:**

> notes:  
\- hollis' mom pulls a classic "concerned parent who doesn't quite get boundaries but wants to know why their kid is suddenly so fucked up" move and looks thru their diary in this so like if youve got Abused Kid Syndrome like me heres your warning about that whole mess. i once spent a full shift at work constructing hollis' home life (mediocre before they move out) and relationship with their mom (rocky at best but she tries)  
\- hollis' opinions are not my own. duck is valid okay i too am a bland ass trans person dskjhkjs  
\- pyromania is bad

The Monongahela National Forest is a great place to systematically lose your shit. Hollis is lucky: their apartment building backs up onto a more remote part of the woods, where campers very rarely go due to the lack of trails and pretty scenery - it’s all rather flat, and kind of brown year-round. Hollis bangs out of their apartment building with their mother shouting something they can’t hear out the window after them, because if they stay any longer they’re going to stop just _ thinking _ about setting the couch on fire (and the carpet, and the kitchen table, and their entire bedroom) and start actually _ doing _ it. They sling their school bag over their shoulder and let the Monongahela swallow them up. 

There’s a field that they head to, the 25 minute walk thankfully enough time for them to stop crying. They plop down on a rotting stump and scrub their face with Keith’s hoodie angrily - they fucking hate crying. It’s _ embarrassing _ and _ useless _ and a _ waste of their time _ that could be better spent doing _ literally fucking anything else _ \- they’re _ busy, _ okay? They have shit to _ do. _ They don’t need to be _ crying _ all the time like they can’t seem to _ stop doing _ lately, it’s just that everything in their _ stupid life _ fucking _ sucks _ -

Hollis screams once, at the top of their lungs, and what sounds like _ all the birds in Kepler _ suddenly explode out of the trees in alarm and fly, screeching, away. They sit in silence after the proceeding brouhaha quiets down, taking deep breaths with their hands - covered by the sleeves of Keith’s hoodie - over their face. The sweatshirt smells like Keith still, which is to say it smells a little bit like weed and a lot like axe. They plan to bully him into buying deodorant that _ doesn’t _ smell like the concentrated essence of 13 year old boys stuck into a bottle of sweat and shaken thoroughly, but they keep forgetting to.

Hollis takes off their backpack and rifles through it. It’s filled with their usual school supplies: a white plastic lighter they shoplifted from the general store (half empty), firecrackers, a small first aid kit, a water bottle, loose sheets of homework they haven’t started and have no intention of doing, a test they got a 100 on and a** SEE ME AFTER CLASS** note (they haven’t), their MP3 player and chunky headphones, assorted random pens and pencils they picked up off the ground, and, most importantly, their journal. They bought it four months ago and it’s already only a few pages away from being full, which means it just gave their mother _ so much information _ when she looked through it today, because they were _ stupid _ and left it at home. 

They’re pretty sure they felt a good 25 years individually sliding off of their lifespan when they walked in the door and saw their mom sitting at the kitchen table pouring over it, brow furrowed as she frowned. The shouting match that followed made their downstairs neighbor bang on the ceiling with a broom, and Hollis is pretty sure they’re grounded but honestly had stopped being able to process new information by the time they’d both swung around to that part of the conversation, so they have no idea.

That’s only the cherry on the top of their shit sundae - they got kicked out of the play they’re in _ (A Midsummer Night’s Dream _ \- they got cast as Puck) because they’re flunking most of their classes, their understudy _ sucks _ and can’t read Shakespeare for shit, and they’d already memorized a lot of their lines because it’s their favorite Shakespeare play and _ dream role, _ but _ yeah, it’s _ ** _fine_ ** _ Ms. Fraiser, I _ ** _understand_ ** _ , I’ll try and get my grades up. _ She actually had the gall to look _ sad _ when she told them that they couldn’t be in the production anymore.

Hollis pulls out a pen and fills up the rest of the journal with a lot of things, but the gist of it boils down to stuff like _ oh my god I hate my mom _ and _ oh my god I hate my life _ and _ oh my god I’m going to burn down the fucking school everyone there is so fucking stupid _ and _ oh my god I’m so stupid _ and _ oh my god I wish I didn’t _ ** _look_ ** _ like this I wish I could feel like _ ** _anything_ ** _ other than this - _

They run out of paper and go to scrawl a bit on the back cover before realizing if they continue they’re going to start crying _ again _ and chucking the journal across the clearing. It lands with a soft thump next to a patch of ferns. Hollis wipes their nose on the sleeve of Keith’s sweatshirt, sniffing prodigiously, then pulls out the lighter and the firecrackers and lights a few of them, heading over to retrieve their journal as they explode behind them, soothingly. 

They put on their headphones and hit shuffle on their MP3 - thankfully it decides to give them _ good _ songs and nothing gooey or sad, and they slowly turn the music up (they can’t start off loud, it always startles them and hurts their ears, so they have to work up to tinnitus giving volume) until it’s loud enough that they can’t think. They set off a few more firecrackers (pyromania is _ very _ therapeutic, as it turns out) and then set to lighting their journal on fire. It smokes for a second, refusing to catch, then ignites, pages curling and cracking. Hollis holds onto the corner until the heat forces them to release it, falling on a patch of ground they cleared of dry pine needles, because they don’t want to start a forest fire. They watch it burn up the rest of the way before pouring their water bottle on it to put it out. 

Somebody lurches into view right next to them, and Hollis feels their heart fall out of their ass for the second time that day.

_ “Jesus!” _ Hollis yelps, dropping their water bottle and scrambling to their feet, quickly taking off their headphones and unplugging them. It’s a fucking _ park ranger, _ because Hollis’ day isn’t fucking shitty enough already, his face struggling mightily with the smirk threatening to break his disappointed, impassive neutrality. “What the _ fuck, _ dude!” Hollis snaps, shock quickly turning to anger as they cross their arms across their chest automatically. “Don’t just _ sneak up on people _ like that!”

_ Horrifyingly, _ his expression changes from stifled amusement to recognition and then _ pity. _ The park ranger sighs, putting a hand on his hip like Keith’s fucking _ mother. _ Hollis wants to go bury themself in a hole somewhere. Their face is undoubtedly blotchy and red, which is _ embarrassing. _ They _ hate _ having emotions publicly.

“Right,” he drawls, and Hollis is hit with a wave of _ not wanting to hear this lecture _ so strong that they have to suppress a full body twitch. They’re pretty sure they recognize this guy from the multiple talks about fire safety and the forestry service he’s given during their schooling career so far - and from what they remember he takes it all _ very seriously. _ “So. I’m Ranger Duck Newton - it’s a nickname - and you’re lighin’ stuff on fire in my forest. Mind tellin’ me your name, kid?” 

Hollis does a quick run-through of which name to say and the pros and cons of each choice, eventually settling on option _ fuck it. _ “Hollis.”

“Hollis, alright. Well, clearly you’ve got some… _ stuff _ goin’ on,” Newton continues, trying so hard to sound sympathetic that it makes Hollis want to scream again.

“I’m _ coping,” _ they mumble back, staring down at the forest floor and wishing a sinkhole would appear underneath them so they could avoid this whole thing in its entirety.

“I get it,” Newton replies, which, _ fucking _ ** _ no,_ ** _ what - _ “Life’s real difficult right now, huh? But, you can’t go burnin’ down th-,”

“You do _ not _ get it,” Hollis snaps, unfolding their arms and clenching their fists. This _ fucking _ guy. Is this _ really _ the conversation that they’re going to have? Horribly, Newton _ raises his eyebrow _ at them.

“Believe me kid, I _ do _ understand, which is why I need’ya to know there’s better ways -,” he starts, and that is _ it. _

“IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FUCKING _FORM_ DO YOU UNDERSTAND!” Hollis shouts, interrupting him. They stomp their foot (which is a little petulant and not the vibe they want to give, but it happens before their brain catches up to their body) and gesture sharply at him, not sure what to do with their hands that isn’t punching him in his _stupid pasty ass face._ “YOU HAVE NO FUCKIN’ IDEA WHAT MY LIFE IS LIKE MY MAN, SO LIKE, HOP THE _FUCK_ OFF MY DICK, OKAY?!” They rip their hands through their hair because _this _**_fucking_**_ guy,_ cis people never fucking understand because they have no concept of it, how hard it is to_ exist,_ how badly they just want to feel fucking _normal._ _Pretending to understand_ is such a fucking _insult_ it makes Hollis feel like their ribs are breaking with the force of their rage - it’s not like they _want_ to act out, they just don’t know where to put all of the horrible _feelings_ that they have to _feel_ all the fucking time, and right here and now seems like the perfect opportunity to let this ignorant asshole take them. “YOU WILL NEVER ‘GET IT’, SO DON’T EVEN FUCKIN’ _TRY_ TO BULLSHIT ME LIKE YOU COULD _EVER_ UNDERSTAND THE SHIT I’M GOING THROUGH! YOU _WON’T_ UNDERSTAND AND YOU DON’T FUCKING _WANT_ TO, YOU _ASSHOLE!”_

“I’m _ trans,” _ Newton says, and the freight train of Hollis’ fury collides directly into the wall of a cliff.

Hollis gawps at him for a few seconds, stunned. They look him over - now that they’re paying attention a few things slide into place, most importantly the fucking _ testosterone molecule tattoo _ poking out from beneath the sleeve of Newton’s uniform, one of the hexagons filled in with the _ trans pride flag colors. _ And they bag on _ Keith _ for being unobservant. 

It dawns on Hollis that Newton is the first trans person (that they know of, anyway) that they’ve ever met in real life. And they just yelled at him. They look him over again. And again. He does not magically become less bland looking. He is, quite possibly, the most _ boring looking person _ they’ve ever set eyes on. If _ wonderbread _ was a person it would be Duck Newton. They know a trans person now, cool, whatever, but he’s a fucking _ narc, _ and he looks like a _ tax accountant. _ Their embarrassment and horror and bubbling excitement transmutes itself back into rage.

“So why the _ fuck _ are you so boring then?” Hollis asks, because they were willing to let Newton’s offensive inoffensiveness slide when they thought he was cis, but because he’s _ trans _ he has no excuse for looking so banal. Hollis takes a step forward and feels about as surprised as Newton _ looks _ when he takes a step back - he has about two inches on Hollis, which means he probably would actually have four, if they weren’t wearing their docs.

“Wh -?!” he begins, but Hollis has no time for excuses. They’re both trans, which means they get to be- no, have the_ responsibility _ to be _ impressive _ and _ unapologetic. _ Newton looks like he apologizes to his _ fridge _ when he shuts the door too hard.

“You have the _ choice,” _ they stress, voice rising, “The _ once in a lifetime _ opportunity to be fucking _ cool, _ and you’re _ choosing _ to dress like _ THAT?!” _

Newton looks down at his tan and olive uniform - which, well, he probably doesn’t have a choice about that, but Hollis has seen him getting groceries, the dude dresses like he wouldn’t know _ fashion _ if it hit him in the face with a 2x4 and started dancing the tango with a rose in its teeth. Granted, that’s a _ little _ hypocritical of them, but they _ know _ what they look good in. They just… elect not to wear it. 

“You choose to act like_ THIS?!” _ Hollis continues, gesturing violently at him, feeling a little manic and a lot insulted by the fact that Newton, somewhere along the line, _ decided _ that he _ wanted _ to be mundane. “You could be anything in the fucking _ WORLD, _ dude, and you chose look like a _ guy in a toilet paper commercial?! _ You could have been _ COOL!” _

Newton tries to speak again, but Hollis carries on overtop of him, ignoring it. “Why are you so _ FUCKING _ BORING?!” they shout, clapping their hands together and then pointing at him, spreading their hands like they’re opening the floor for questions and comments. “Riddle me this, my good bitch: why are you _ BORING _ and a _ NARC?!” _

It’s Duck’s turn to gawp at them, and Hollis glares back, doing their best to push down on the embarrassment rising in their throat. They’re _ right. _

“I… okay,” Newton says, sounding a little hysterical, which is how a lot of adults start sounding after they talk to Hollis, to be honest. “Okay. Gimmie the lighter. And the firecrackers.”

Hollis scowls, but gives them to him, sorting their stuff back into their bag and zipping it as they do so. It’s not like they can’t just get more.

“D’ya need a ride back to town?” Duck asks, horribly nice, which makes Hollis want to jump out a window and run away, only there aren’t any windows in the woods.

“No,” they reply, unable to make eye contact again and resorting to staring at the ground.

“I’m gonna give you my card,” Newton says slowly, like he’s deciding to do it as he speaks. “Call me if you need anything.”

Hollis most certainly will not do that, but they take it anyways. Silence prickles between the two of them as Hollis waits for Newton to arrest them, and then realizes that that’s _ stupid _ and they should just _ go _ before he actually does.

“See you around,” Hollis says, nabbing their bag and walking away as quickly as they can while maintaining a veneer of _ casual. _ They wait until they’re out of his sightline before breaking into a sprint towards Keith’s house.

Thankfully, his mom isn’t there - she must be on shift at the hospital still. Hollis likes her, yes, but they don’t think they can get through her typical greeting without trying to throw themself on the floor to army crawl away from all the kindness. Hollis swipes the spare key from under the loose brick in their garden wall and lets themself inside, kicking off their shoes (it’s not a shoes-off household, but the day Hollis doesn’t take off their shoes when they enter a home will be a cold day in hell indeed) and setting them under the coat rack before more or less stomping upstairs to Keith’s room. 

Keith is already opening the door by the time they reach the landing.

“Hollis? What are yo-,” he starts, but Hollis just pushes past him and collapses onto his unmade bed, yanking the comforter over their head and screaming into his pillow. He needs to wash his sheets - they kind of smell, but Hollis doesn’t really mind it.

“... You good?” Keith asks when they’re done. “Aren’t you supposed to be at rehearsal?”

Hollis lurches upright and glares at him. It’s not his fault, but they really didn’t need the reminder. “I’m going to kill _ everything,” _ Hollis says venomously before slamming their face back into his pillow.

“Cool,” Keith replies. “Just do it outside, okay dude? I don’t want to h-,” He cuts himself off with a noise like he just stepped in something squishy, and Hollis looks back up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“What.”

“Should I not call you dude anymore?” Keith asks anxiously, “Because, like, you -,”

“Keith,” Hollis says, cutting him off, “If you stop calling me dude I will beat the shit out of you. We _ will _ have problems.”

Keith makes a face like _ well how was I supposed to know _ and Hollis maybe kind of wants to cry again but they’ve cried in front of Keith so much lately that the feeling in their throat rolls itself right back into anger.

_ “All I asked _ was that you not make a deal out of it and now you’re like ‘should I stop calling you dude, you know, the one thing we’ve consistently called each other since fourth grade’. Like, _ fuck _ off,” Hollis says, and it feels like _ shit _ to lash out at Keith like this when he’s only trying to be nice, to listen and accommodate, which is _ way _ more than anybody else ever does, but the words are already out there and there’s nothing they can do about it. The press their palms into their eyes so they don’t have to see his undoubtedly hurt expression. “Just treat me _ normally,” _ Hollis says, then mumbles, suddenly exhausted, “I just want people to act like I’m _ normal.” _

“I’m sorry,” Keith says after a minute of silence.

“Me too,” Hollis replies.

They hear Keith look through their bag and pull out papers, which he takes back to his desk. Hollis doesn’t really _ nap _ so much as shut their eyes for 15 minutes and not move, but when they open them again they feel much better - well, at least like they’re not going to either spontaneously combust or start sobbing, and Keith’s done half of their history homework for them.

They give him a quick hug from behind, a little irritated by how they don’t have to lean down very far to do so, then go to Keith’s computer room, type in the password to Keith’s account, and _ very slowly _ boot up their email. Newton’s business card has an email address on it, and they do feel _ a little _ bad about yelling at him. Not about how he dresses - that’s all true and fair, and now that they’ve met, Hollis won’t ever get to say shit like _ yeah, the first trans person I ever met was so cool and awesome, I felt so _ ** _inspired,_ ** so they’re a little bitter. Newton is only _ inspiring _ if you want to keep your head down and look at trees all day, and Hollis wants to be _ famous. _ They want _ notoriety. _ They just aren’t destined for a pedestrian, humdrum life. Even so, Newton didn’t deserve Hollis calling him an asshole and telling him to hop off their dick. He was - probably - just trying to help. The least they can do is halfass an apology. They slap at the keyboard and wait until it sends (it takes a while) before trotting back off to Keith’s room to force him to play with their hair.

> **Subject:** [This field has been intentionally left blank.]
> 
> sorry i yelled at you dude
> 
> \- hollis

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! if you enjoyed please consider leaving some kudos or a comment, it always makes my day. you can find me at themlet on tumblr!


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